


all you need is a flower

by thegreatmoon



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, mentions of substance use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22979005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatmoon/pseuds/thegreatmoon
Summary: “i meant it, ya know?”“about the vietnam war?”“about you being gorgeous.”;in an ocean of flowers, lieutenant johnny suh picks the one he finds the most special
Relationships: Moon Taeil/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 15
Kudos: 105





	all you need is a flower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carelessapples](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carelessapples/gifts).



> this is for the giveaway i did last month ~~ soda, the winner and one of my dear readers and supporters asked me for a soft johnil and i suggested perhaps try doing a historical??? :DDD this is for her 
> 
> hope u like this, wrote it while listening to the album of the musical across the universe 
> 
> **read the tags for possible triggers**
> 
> thank you my sweet jill for betaing this on the spot!!! 
> 
> xx  
> sol

His eyes faced a colorful crowd, with many signs being held high with calls for the end of the war and flowers splattered on the ground, in their hair and among the water of the fountain. Even if Johnny couldn’t see their faces, he sensed by pure logic that they were not pleased to see him. With his clean navy blue uniform, shiny medals and red ribbons close to his heart, his monochrome-self clashing with the rainbow that stood in front of him.

Somehow he was introduced poshly and longly, a big highlight of all his doings in the conflict that all there protested. When his superior was done speaking, Johnny stood up from his chair and walked slowly towards the microphone in the middle of the stage. There were a few polite claps, but the public was far from enthusiastic.

Clearing his throat nervously, Johnny approached the microphone. “Hello,” he greeted to be met with a dry response. “My name is John Suh, First Lieutenant—“

Before he could continue, his sound was cut off and he was speaking to a dead mic. A high pitched, deafening sound was emitted from the speakers, causing a loud groan from the crowd. Soon, it stopped and, from the rainbow sea, a man stood out on the border of the flower-filled fountain.

He was small, from what his stature could tell, but wore his colorful baggy buttoned shirt with pride and his jeans looked like they had seen better days. Barefoot and with a flower crown on his blonde hair, the hippie picked up a mic and smiled mockingly sweet towards Johnny.

“Lieutenant Johnny there is gorgeous and talks nice, but don’t you think it’s time we share some love between each other?” he asked into the microphone, voice hoarse and cheerful. Johnny couldn’t contain the blush that rose his blush with the compliment. “This war isn’t about protecting our people. It’s about capitalist interests against the free will of a country that chose a different option than us. We have no place in Vietnam. You know that. Instead of offering another rage-filled speech on things we all know about, I offer to you today a performance per se,” the man smiled brighter at the mention of a presentation. He was clearly ignoring all the police movement among the crowd to take him down from the fountain and his microphone away. “An acapella cover of ‘All You Need Is Love’.”

When he opened his mouth, his hoarse voice incorporated the melody, shouting musically the lyrics Johnny had heard several times ever since he came home. The crowd sang along with him, raising several flowers with their hands and trying to stop the police from getting to him. The man managed to get to half of the song, jumping around the fountain, wooing both men and women, winking charmingly as he cheered along with the crowd, but it was time the police got to him. He gave his microphone to someone in the crowd, who continued singing sweetly, though lacking considerably since the blonde man had a very powerful marking voice.

He disappeared, fading into the crowd, who became human barriers against the police and kept singing the song until the end. Johnny felt a tear escaping his eyes and chills spreading through his entire body as he watched thousands of people united in a sea of flowers, love songs, and calls for peace. They were also different among themselves. Even if the majority was still white, many minorities were spotted, either in their own group or splattered among others.

The microphone was cut off and the event ended. People eventually dispersed. Johnny received a pat in the back of his superior who muttered against those “filthy fuckings hobos” and told Johnny he should go home, his leg needed rest.

At the mention of his leg, Johnny felt a sting on his knee. Even in uniform, he walked among the vanishing crowd, who, being pacifists at heart, didn’t blink at his presence. The Lieutenant was almost off rally ground when he felt someone poking on his shoulder and turned around with curiosity.

There stood the blonde man in his baggy, colorful clothes and pretty flower crown. Now that he wasn’t among the people on the top of a fountain, Johnny had to look down, for the man was several centimeters shorter. His proportions were thick and round at the same intensity Johnny, who was tall, was slim and elegant. For some reason, the navy man rather liked the contrast.

The man looked at Johnny in a closed-mouth smile, enhancing his high cheekbones and somehow brightening his eyes. “I meant it, ya know?” he asked confidently, in a much less intense tone than when he had the microphone.

“About the Vietnam war?” Johnny questioned with a frown while leaning over to listen to the man better.

“About you being gorgeous,” he corrected, bright smile not failing him. Johnny noticed that when he blinked his eyes, he did so in almost slow motion, an innocent act that belonged to a pure-hearted man. Suddenly, the hippie’s expression turned worried. “Oh no,” he muttered and, at the next second, Johnny had his wrists grabbed and he was dragged to a dark alleyway close to where they were. Breathlessly, the flower man used Johnny’s tall body as a shield for his small self, with his back against a red brick wall he looked over Johnny’s shoulders. The Lieutenant dared to look back for a second, watching policemen pass by, scanning through blonde boys to find the one that had brought chaos in the form of a song to that rally.

The source of that entire mess stared at Johnny with big, wide, innocent eyes. “Sorry about that, need to hide from them,” he apologized while biting his dried bottom lip.

Johnny didn’t quite understand the hippie’s ways yet. With a frown, he asked, “You don’t think I’ll snitch on you?”

Adjusting his purple flower crown to make sure it was still in place, the blonde man didn’t seem very worried about the question. “Not really. You have more in common with me than with them.”

When he finished the sentence, his eyes sparkled and his lips curled in a smile that felt familiar somehow, even if Johnny had never seen it before.

“You’re Korean-American?” he asked in shock.

Of course, he knew the man was yellow above his hair color. When he spoke with the mic, Johnny could tell by the shape of his eyes and the tan on his skin. The flower man glowed amidst the crowd not only due to his never-failing smile, purple flower crown, potent voice or melanin. He had caught Johnny’s eyes because he exhibited all of those charms at the same time.

Even being of the same race, it didn’t mean the same ethnic background, but something in those eyes told Johnny the hippie felt a connection with him too. He was proved right when the blonde man’s smile curled further.

“Born and raised,” he announced proudly, brightness surrounding him in that dark alley. Again, his angelic expressions were tainted by worry. “Was it hard fighting there? You must have heard all type of racist shit…”

Johnny’s knee failed him. Not handling standing anymore without any support, he placed both of his hands against the brick wall, unwillingly cornering the flower man against the wall and casting a shadow over him. He didn’t look scared by Johnny’s approach, in fact, he didn’t even move, and concern intensified on his facial expression at the sight of Johnny’s pain.

Breathing out, the Lieutenant confessed, “Y-Yeah… Some of the hardcore ones straight up called me Vietcong and they didn’t trust me too much.”

Years living with those soldiers, healing their wounds, waking up at the sound of attacks with them and in the end, he would still be seen as the other. Some didn’t care, and Johnny did make a few friends in the army that would be for life, because there is nothing like risking your life for someone and sleeping knowing that might be their last night. Still, some held on to their prejudice groomed by either seeing Asians as someone to fight against or as their colonized inferiors.

Johnny felt a thumb brushing against his cheek and noticed the blonde hippie was sticking his arm out the best he could to caress his face. “Why do you support this war then?” he questioned softly but showing a confused frown.

Before the Lieutenant spoke, the man dropped his hand. There were still reminiscences of tingling on Johnny’s cheek.

“I got into the navy as a way to prove myself American and I guess I never left… Now it’s just my job,” he explained. After Johnny finished medical school, leaving his parents more than proud, he was met with an enlistment ad for medical doctors on his graduation ceremony. There were many offers for him in America, but Johnny knew that the soldiers fighting that war were the ones that least had any to do with it. Never had he regretted his decision since then, even when he suffered from a close bombing and his leg was never the same. At home, even if hurt, Johnny was asked to speak in favor of the war for it was facing enormous backlash from social minorities. In the end, he only followed orders and he did them dutifully, counting the days for his discharge so he could finally start the medical career he had put on hold.

Johnny’s eyes landed on the blonde man, who heard him tell his story without interrupting and constantly caressing his shoulder to show support on his hard choices. Noticing he had just told his life story to a complete stranger, Johnny commented, “You never told me your name?”

The flower man’s smile brightened and his smile raised his high cheekbones even higher. “Taeil Moon, very hippie of me to have a name for the moon, right?” he said teasingly with a wink.

“Why be with these flower people?” Johnny inquired, coming closer. He didn’t know at that moment if he was trapping Taeil on that brick wall only due to the pain of his knee.

“Flower power is the answer I found to voice my dissatisfaction against the war…” Taeil explained calmly. His aura acquired a certain reassurance around it and once again his lips curled in a smile of innocence. “Flowers are prettier than weapons, don’t you agree?”

Johnny didn’t know what to properly answer, his words completely stolen by Taeil’s beauty and personality. The Lieutenant could only nod, a victim of a mere hippie’s charms.

“Can I tell you a secret only you will understand?” Taeil whispered secretively. Johnny nodded dumbfounded and approached the man. “I’m more dangerous than nukes, a product of war myself. Usually, when Americans come to new lands they leave more than death behind… I’m sure in a few years we will see many Vietnamese-Americans around…”

Johnny’s eyes blinked when he finally realized. Maybe Taeil’s eyes were slightly bigger than most people’s. If he didn’t dye his hair, it would probably be light brown, a bright flag for everyone to understand his true ascendency. The Lieutenant had heard about the children of soldiers who came into Korea’s territory for the same reasons they were going to Vietnam’s lands at that exact moment. Those men of the army were there to fight, yet they still needed to be appeased as men would in their own territory and that would usually mean two things: booze and women.

Many were the Vietnamese women Johnny watched falling for heartless soldiers who wanted nothing but their bodies but promised them the American dream. Taeil’s mother was one of those more than twenty years ago.

Even so, it was a lie for Taeil to describe himself as a product of war, those were hateful fruits that brought nothing but death and destruction to their path. Smiling widely, with a melodic voice and bright aura, Taeil was the embodiment of life. The man was prettier than his adored flowers.

Johnny’s heart started aching for he couldn’t possibly confess to Taeil all of those thoughts, not without seeming bad-shit crazy and make him run towards those attached-less people to smoke weed. That was why, in the end, he decided to make a thoughtless and impulsive question.

“Did you really mean it?”

Taeil frowned in confusion. “What?”

“When you called me gorgeous, did you mean it?”

Again, those cheekbones rose up, his lips stretched in a puckered smile and Taeil’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, Lieutenant Johnny Suh. Bet you look even more gorgeous without this uniform on,” he spoke in his sultry voice, licking his lips suggestively at the end.

Johnny raised an eyebrow while approaching Taeil. “Was this an anti-war commentary or implications you want to have sex with me?”

“Both,” the blonde answered boldly. He gazed Johnny from his head to toes, stopping a second longer on his crotch area. Johnny was starting to think that flower child was going to get him a heart attack.

“You’re more radical than I first had thought,” the soldier said in a mock-scold that ended with him biting his bottom lip and gazing over Taeil. “I like it.”

Taeil playfully grabbed Johnny’s tie and the Lieutenant shivered as if the man was touching his own skin. With one swift move, the hippies pulled Johnny’s tie and they were face to face. The blonde man stared at Johnny with eyes on fire. “Can we go out then?”

The soldier’s eyes fell to his humid lips before nodding. “Only because of your bravery of asking an acting soldier on a date, I’m gonna give you my telephone number.”

Johnny stopped leaning his hands on the wall and took a card from his pocket to give to Taeil. The small man stared at the business card in silent joy. Quickly he put it in the pocket of his loose buttoned shirt and took his purple flower crown from his blonde mane. Tiptoeing and sticking his arm, he placed the flowers on Johnny’s dark hair.

“For you to keep a promise. Give me back when we have our first date.”

Taeil’s hand moved to Johnny’s cheek and the Lieutenant had no other choice than to take his lips immediately. He pressed Taeil against the hard brick wall and tasted his chapped warm lips that scented of weed and cola. Taeil kissed Johnny back at the same pace, throwing his hands around the man’s nape and pressing their bodies closer. Their kiss became heated and they opened their mouths in a few seconds, allowing their tongues to touch each other in that dark alley. Johnny placed his hands on Taeil’s hips and was pleased to find plump flesh to squeeze, which he gladly did, earning a muffled moan from Taeil. Finally, Taeil raised his legs from the floor, trusted Johnny’s hips against his and his strong hands to keep him in place, and wrapped them around Johnny, engaging in intense hip roll to which Johnny responded with a groan and tighter hold to his round waist.

Johnny, who had his eyes closed since having a taste of Taeil, opened them in shock and decided to detach his lips from Taeil’s in a breathy chuckle. The hippie’s eyes were hazy, his lips wet and swollen. After taking a breath, he tried to attack Johnny’s breath again, almost as if addicted, but the Lieutenant turned his face and the kiss ended up on his cheek.

Slowly and with delicacy, he placed the messy-haired Taeil on his two feet back on the floor though not letting go of his hips.

“For you not to forget your promise,” Johnny whispered to his ear.

They left the alley, knowing that the cops had long given up on searching for Taeil, and Johnny gladly escorted him home. The hippie tried stealing another kiss when they were at his doorstep, but Johnny reminded him they were in public.

He made one last promise to him before letting him go back to his revolutionary friends. “On our first date, I’ll give you lots of kisses, moonflower.”

Taeil parted with an artificially tough expression on his face. “You better, Lieutenant Johnny Suh, or I’ll hunt you down to get that flower crown back.”

**Author's Note:**

> i write taeil pairing fics and hyuckil text aus ~~  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/thegreatmoon94)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/thegreatmoon94)  
> [carrd](https://gardenofwords.carrd.co/)  
>    
> xx  
> sol


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